Page 10 of The Good Girl

“Besides, he’s always bringing home random women, and I never see them again,” Tristan says by my ear as he helps me shrug my backpack off and puts it on instead. “He’s a one-and-done guy, I guess.”

“Ew, I don’t want to think about your dad like that.” I make a face as Tristan leans forward to explain the throttle and the brakes to me.

One hand rests on my waist, while the other hand covers mine on the brake. “I think I like this though.”

“Like what?” I say as I start the engine. Feeling the vibrations from the bike travelling through my body is strange, powerful. I missed this. But the daughter of the mayor didn’t go around riding dirt bikes and running wild in the woods. Savage children did that. Wild, free children.

“How jealous you are,” he murmurs as he brings his hands around me, his body wrapped around mine. “First Blythe and now Sasha.”

“I don’t care enough to be jealous, Tristan.”

He squeezes me gently. “I think you’re a pretty little liar, Princess, and time will tell.”

I tilt my head back softly, knocking my helmet against his. “Keep dreaming. Just because you fed me and let me ride your bike, it doesn’t mean I’m yours.”

“You sure about that?” he asks, his voice teasing as one of his hands slides up my ribs, pausing just below my breast. I wasn’t completely innocent, but having all your spare time dictated by a billion different activities didn’t exactly leave much space for a love life either, and this odd feeling of anger, tinged with lust, made me want to bite him.

“Move that hand any further up and I’ll break your fucking fingers,” I growl.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he laughs softly, and I can feel the movements against my back, but his hand stays where it is. “If we don’t go now, you’ll be late for your government class.”

* * *

We pull up to the school, getting a few glances, but Tristan ignores them as he shrugs off my backpack and hands it to me.

“Here,” he says with a grin as our fingers brush. I snatch back my hand and give him a look, still suspicious as to why he was being so nice to me.

“Thanks.” Handing him the helmet and the keys, I step back. He’d been in my space way too much today already. I didn’t want him to think we were friends or something. “And by the way, you’re not eating with me tonight.”

He shrugs. “I know. I have some place I want to be anyway. I just said it to get him off my back.”

Nodding, I bite my tongue and resist the urge to ask if he’ll be with Blip because that’s none of my business. I don’t care what he does. An errant thought strikes me, that for as well as Tristan seems to know my life, since he’s always showing up to places he shouldn’t be, I know virtually nothing about his. I’d pushed him away and blocked him out to the extent that I wasn’t even sure if I could hazard a guess at how he spent his weekends, other than high and between Blip’s legs.

He stands in front of me, helmet in his hand, before saying, “Do you want me to walk you to class or are you just going to stand there?”

I blink slowly. I hadn’t realized I was waiting for him until his words pulled me out of my daze. And no, I never wanted Tristan to walk me to class. I wanted him to be like a magnet that was repelled in the opposite direction of me whenever we were in the same vicinity. “I’m going. But why aren’t you?”

“I told you, I have someplace to be.” He smiles and turns away, climbing back on the bike.

“Oh.” I ignore the small flicker of disappointment, blowing it out like a birthday candle, and pretend that it never existed. I wouldn’t over analyze these strange thoughts that creep in. I wasn’t going to soften.

Giving me a mock salute, he starts up the engine. “See you later, Princess.”

I flip him off and ignore the wink he gives me before speeding off. The bell rings out across the campus, and glancing down at my watch, I realize he’s right. I’m going to be late for class if I don’t move like my ass is on fire.

Out of breath, I dump my bag on the floor and rest my head on the desk for a second. I barely made it here, but luckily, it seems Mrs. Krankle is running late. Inhaling slowly, I almost jump out of my skin when Serena lays a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, what happened to you during the study period?” Her voice sounds strained, like something is off. I look at her carefully, her brown eyes are narrowed slightly as she watches me in return. I pull my phone out of my bag and find seven texts from her and a missed call, she must have thought something was seriously wrong if she’d even called me. I hated phone calls, texting was so much easier.

“My phone was in my bag,” I explain softly. “I wasn’t feeling well, and I needed a break.”

“With Tristan Radcliffe?” Serena narrows her eyes at me and runs a hand through her long copper hair. She was always soft and gentle, it’s part of the reason being around her was so easy, but for a moment, she looks like a typical mean girl cheerleader and a frisson of awareness makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“Huh?” I don’t like the accusatory tone of her words, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong. Huffing, she pulls out her phone and shows me some pictures of me on Tristan’s bike, panties almost on show, that had been posted over social media. Then there’s an image of us talking and one where he’s handing me my bag back. We look friendly, more than friendly in fact, as he smiles at me. I’m sure my father’s publicist will be delighted with these images on the school’s social media site, I can practically hear the wedding bells now.

“Are you dating?” Her lips tighten into a grimace of sorts.

“It’s not like that.” I frown as I push her phone away. There’s a feeling of unease settling in my stomach, probably from eating too much food earlier after starving myself, but it’s making me feel uncomfortable.

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